


It Brings It All Home

by drunkhoechlinishot



Series: Back to you [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF, Formula 2 RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Blow Jobs, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Panic Attacks, Romain’s accident, Shirtgate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:49:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28795680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkhoechlinishot/pseuds/drunkhoechlinishot
Summary: The drivers put their lives at risk every time they get behind one of those magnificent, roaring beasts. But watching Romain’s accident affects the young drivers in different ways. Seeking distraction even comfort in others around them.
Relationships: Callum Ilott/Mick Schumacher
Series: Back to you [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2147379
Comments: 4
Kudos: 133





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I thought that watching Romain’s accident must’ve affected the younger drivers profoundly. Then this happened...

If there was ever any doubt in the minds of the drivers, their families, the teams or indeed the fans just how dangerous motorsport and F1 is - it was all brought to light with the accident Romain had in Bahrain. Just watching the replays over and over a constant reminder, that the drivers risk their lives every single time they get behind the steering wheel of one of these magnificent, roaring beasts. 

And even though the outcome could have been so very different, it had shaken some of them to their very core. It’s little wonder then that after the day’s events - some are seeking distraction, even comfort in the others around them. 

Pre-race, Mick had been milling around the Haas garage, his F1 seat all but confirmed for next year. He’d be taking part in the Young Drivers test in a couple of weeks. It had been good to be included by the team. But to see the chain of events unfold on the screens in front of him had left him troubled.

His first reaction had been abject horror. Watching the car breach the barrier at such speed was bad enough, but combined with the raging ball of fire - the term miracle seemed the only appropriate word. 

Mick’s next reaction was the same as all those around the track, and the millions around the world watching the events unfold live on TV. Relief, after understanding the pictures playing out before their eyes. A figure emerging from the flames. Somehow, clambering over the Armco barrier and jumping to the safety of the medical car team. 

Disbelief, that the Frenchman was by all accounts relatively unscathed. The pictures showing Romain sitting in the back of the medical car talking to Ian and Alan. Then - watching him being helped to the waiting ambulance it seemed like a fairytale, too good to be true. The round of applause seemed too little in response. 

Later, Mick’s mind took a bit of a darker turn. It’s not official, he’s not signed the paperwork yet. But he has a verbal contract for next year. Probably replacing the man who’s world almost ended just a short time ago. God, life can really kick you when you’re down. Mick feels guilt like he’s never felt before. 

After watching Lance’s car flip and then seeing him crawl from the Racing Point, the rest of the race goes by in a blur. He has a vague memory of an engine catching fire near the end of the race. Sergio? He’s not sure...he feels numb. God he needs to get to the fuck out of there. 

Callum watches events unfold from the Ferrari garage. It’s a perk of being an FDA driver in contention for the F2 championship. He’s feeling a bit of a buzz after being 2nd in the day’s earlier feature race, he also keeps his 2nd place in the title race behind Mick. Normally he relishes the chance to be present for a Grand Prix. But today...oh boy! 

He watches the race get underway, there’s the usual jostling for position taking place and then - he doesn’t see who, all he sees is fire. His stomach lurches, thinking back to that day in Belgium when he lost his friend. Flashbacks to the worst day he’d known in his racing career. 

Callum’s heart is racing - as the red flag ends the session for an unknown amount of time. The pit lane is a hive of activity as the cars come back, not knowing if there will be a restart. He can feel sweat trickle down his forehead. It seems like an absolute age until he hears Crofty say that Romain is out of the car. What?

He watches gobsmacked - as they replay the race start on the screen. Quickly after which the car lies split in two, half having gone through the barrier. He can’t get his head round that. Then the instant fireball that just explodes from the car makes everything seem so much more violent and desperate. 

If he didn’t see it with his own eyes Callum would be unbelieving of what had just happened. Romain pulling himself from the blazing wreckage, jumping over the barrier to safety. Unbelievable. The pit wall erupts into applause, Callum finds himself joining in on autopilot. 

Callum can’t stay here and watch another minute. Why do they keep replaying this shit? Isn’t it enough to show it once? He needs to get out before he hits the deck. Callum scrambles to the paddock exit, unnoticed, others around him busy enough to be distracted. 

His heart is pounding, skin crawling, hands shaking. He runs to the nearest toilet and empties the contents of his guts. After taking a long while to compose himself he sits outside enjoying the calming breeze only the desert can provide. 

He actually misses the majority of the race - before sliding back into the Ferrari garage. It’s hard for them to get excited about Charles’ P10, but ultimately there was a lot more to be grateful for. 

Bahrain being what it is - the only place that sells alcohol is the hotel. Mick isn’t a big drinker usually but he needs something, something to blur these thoughts in his head. So he walks straight to the bar as he gets there. 

Similarly, Callum makes his way to the hotel bar on his return. Hoping to get out of his head for a short while. He orders two extortionately priced beers. One isn’t going to cut it. Not tonight. As he lifts his beers from the counter to find a seat, he spots Mick sitting in a corner booth looking at a glass of red wine like it’s about to solve all of his problems. 

“Tough day eh?” Callum asks. Mick looks a bit startled to see him, but recovers. Small smile on his face.  
“God, that’s an understatement!...You want to come join me?”  
“Yeah, although I don’t know if I’ll be good company right now.”  
“Believe me Callum, I won’t be either...but what is the saying? Misery loves company?” 

Callum huffs a laugh and sits opposite Mick. The two are friends first and rivals second. People on the outside have never been able to understand the dynamics of their relationship. But they’ve known each other for years. Teammates in the past. Now both FDA drivers. They push each other to do better, such respect for each other. The fact that they’re top of the standings fighting it out for the F2 title is almost natural. If anyone can understand them - then it’s the other.

Callum takes a long pull on his beer, enjoying the bubbles on his tongue, before he feels the burn as he swallows. He looks over at Mick, a bit more refined in his tastes drinking a bottle of red. By the looks of it he’s ready for a top up. 

Mick notices Callum look between his glass and the bottle. “Do you want to go first?”, Mick asks as he fills his glass carefully.  
“Not quite yet. Maybe after I’ve drank this first one”, he says as he takes another chug of the amber liquid. And so they sit in companionable silence for sometime, in-between sips. 

“I feel guilty...”, Mick says quietly.  
“Guilty? Why?”, Callum asks. Mick sighs.  
“It’s not really official...but... I think I will get Romain’s seat.”  
“Oh!”, is all Callum can come up with. Mick must then realise his mistake. As his face falls.  
“Shit Callum, I shouldn’t have said anything!” 

Callum, his first beer quickly finished, immediately starts on the next. This one tastes bitter. Perhaps because of the bombshell that Mick just dropped.  
“It’s been no secret that they’re after you Mick.” He thinks he does well to hide his own disappointment.  
Mick twirls the glass between his fingers. “Yes, but they should be after you too.”  
Callum thinks if they were he’d know by now. 

He’s not quite ready to speak yet, the surface of the table fascinating as he thinks of what he needs to say. He takes a deep breath: 

“All I could think about was Anthoine”, he hears the wobble in his voice. He hears Mick swear.  
“Shit Callum, you must think I’m a selfish piece of crap!”, Mick gasps, his face pale.  
“I think I had a panic attack earlier...seeing it all...it just took me back...and I Oh God-“  
“I am a selfish piece of shit”, Mick repeats. 

He reaches out, his hand on Callum’s wrist. It feels nice to have that touch, it slows Callum’s racing pulse. They stay, hands touching until Callum finally looks Mick in the eyes. 

“You’re not selfish, you’re a human being. If I was in your shoes I would probably feel the same.” He watches the German take a long mouthful of wine.  
“Yes but a human being would also not forget his friend!” This time the pain is pronounced in Mick’s voice. Callum moves his hand, the one beneath Mick’s, to place his over the German’s this time. 

Neither of them knows how long they sit there, eyes full with unshed tears. It’s probably just as well they are in a corner booth, away from the others in the room. Sometime later a waiter comes to take their order, and clear the table - lifting Callum’s empty bottles. 

“There’s still a chance, you know, that they’ll sign you too” Mick continues, then pausing to sip his wine. Callum knows this is what he hopes for himself, but reality tells him different.  
“I really don’t know Mick...I really think if that were the case I’d know by now.” He sighs loudly. Mick gives him a soft smile “it would be nice to be teammates again.” Callum finds he can’t deny that. 

More beer arrives, and the two start to talk about Anthoine and a number of other guys they’ve raced with over the last few years. It’s fun to reminisce and think back on all the truly great times they’ve had. Some of the kids they race with are plain crazy. And just like - that they have gone through the whole spectrum of human emotions and are laughing until they cry. 

The bar area has now become busy. More of the teams are arriving back from the track, ready to let their hair down. At least it’s a good atmosphere, Mick imagines what it may have been like if Romain hadn’t escaped the fiery wreckage, it doesn’t bare thinking about. 

“Do you wanna go and chill upstairs? My room has a big couch”, Mick offers.  
“Er...yeah. Why not. I think I’ll take a couple these up with me”, Callum says. “Do you want another bottle?”  
“I shouldn’t”, Mick says sheepishly. Callum knows he shouldn’t either - but fuck it they’ve had an awful day. The least they can do is fall off the wagon for one night.  
Callum being decisive, heads to the bar and orders anyway. He asks the barman not to open the wine - leaving it up to Mick if he wants it or not. 

Mick manages to look annoyed as Callum meets him at the end of the bar. “I told you I shouldn’t!”, he sounds pretty annoyed too. “Look it’s unopened, your decision. But I’m having these, then crashing out”, Callum making it plain he intends to keep drinking for a little while longer at least. 

Mick accepts the bottle and they head up in the lift unseen - despite the hotel bar being so busy. They quickly get to Mick’s room.  
“A suite...getting used to the high life already?”, Callum knows he sounds bitchy but he is genuinely impressed. Mick manages to look mortified: “I never asked for a suite, I-“  
“I’m only kidding, come on man, you know I like to wind you up...don’t worry about me, it’s another thing I’m jealous about.” He says honestly. 

Mick, well aware of Callum’s sense of humour makes a face and throws himself on the couch. Callum places his beers on the coffee table and takes a seat himself. Mick fiddles with the remote, the TV seemingly knackered too. “I’ll try the one in the bedroom!”, he suggests. 

Callum notices a minibar and heads over to fetch a wine glass and the corkscrew for Mick, at least making his decision a bit easier. “One in the bedroom’s working, come on!”  
Never one to turn down a chance to lounge on a king size bed in a 5 star luxury resort, Callum follows Mick bringing their drinks. 

“Thanks”, Mick says as Callum sits the wine at his side of the bed. The sports and news channels constantly replaying Romain’s accident. Mick sighs deeply, as Callum crams his eyes shut tight. Mick connects Netflix and selects Friday Night Dinner, having watched a few episodes with Callum before. 

The exploits of the Goodman family and Jim distracting the pair for a good hour. Callum not finishing his last beer. Mick having had one small glass from his second bottle. 

It’s left unsaid between them but neither is particularly keen to be on their own yet. So they watch for nearly another hour. Mick notices that Callum keeps yawning, but he’s making no move to head to his own room. 

“Stay if you want?”, he offers. He can see the wheels turning in Callum’s brain. “I, er yeah, that would be good. I don’t think I want to be alone tonight.”  
“Good...me neither”, says Mick in return. 

They quickly ready themselves for bed, now thoroughly exhausted by the emotions of the day’s events. They lie in the darkness, both unsure if sleep will come. Thoughts continuing to run through both their heads. 

Callum tosses and turns a bit. The bed is really comfortable, he’s unable to understand why he can’t drift off. Mick is doing no better beside him, he keeps huffing and puffing. Callum feels his heart start to race and his breathing quicken. Oh God, not again! He really doesn’t want to have another panic attack. 

Mick must sense his anxiety: “come here”, he whispers. Mick moves closer to the middle of the bed as Callum does the same. Now touching, Mick takes the initiative and pulls Callum into his arms, directing his head to his chest. Callum complying easily, right now all he wants is to be held. “Thanks, this helps.”

Somehow, things progress a few minutes later - to Mick stroking Callum’s hair. And Callum sure as shit isn’t complaining. It’s making him feel so sleepy. “Feels nice”, he whispers as he starts to nod off. “Yeah, it does”, comes the reply but Callum is already asleep. So he doesn’t feel the light kiss pressed to the top of his head.


	2. Stumbling Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after it becomes clear that these two quite like each other...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2, a little smutty, with some feelings but not quite porn...yet!

Aside from Callum having one bad dream during the night, the pair slept relatively well. As he wakens though, Callum now remembers he’d already been lying in Mick’s arms, when he’d felt the waves of terror wash over him. Mick had then soothed him from his nightmare - by rubbing his back in gentle circles until he’d calmed down. 

Mick is lying half-draped over Callum now. His nose buried into his neck and his breathing deep and even with sleep. Callum likes the feeling of lying here cozy and comfortable holding someone so close. His dick most certainly does. From where he is, it appears the German is similarly affected. 

The way Mick is lying over him - now they each have a leg slotted between the other’s. Callum can feel how hard Mick is against his thigh. Just as Mick will feel him the moment he wakes up. It’s such a turn on. 

Callum lies in the early morning light feeling rested, but a bit shocked that his body would react in this way. But then as he lies there, he filters through all the thoughts in his head. 

This is his friend. They’ve known each other for years. Mick and him get on so well - despite being rivals. They can talk freely around each other, even about their feelings - yesterday proved that. They can comfort each other easily, and he feels safe when he’s with him. Mick is attractive he knows that, and - oh! 

Just as Callum is coming to this realisation Mick stirs, grinding his morning wood against Callum’s thigh. He has to bite his lip not to moan in reaction. His own dick throbs in his boxers in return. He doesn’t know when it happened, but he’s holding Mick’s hand to his chest, over his heart.

Oh fuck - he’s got feelings for Mick! How did he not know?

Mick grinds against him again, this time a small gasp escapes Callum’s mouth, and seemingly this is all it takes for the German to waken. His body jerks a little as he realises what state he has wakened in - and who he’s with. 

“Shit - Sorry”, he says in a husky whisper.   
“Believe me - I’m not complaining”, Callum replies, his voice sounding equally rough.   
Mick tries to extricate himself from Callum’s hold, he’s not making it easy. 

“Sorry”, he says again, removing his thigh from between Callum’s own. From Callum’s viewpoint beneath him, as he looks up the Brit can now see the pinkened cheeks on Mick’s face. The first thought that crosses his mind - would his cheeks be that shade after we’ve just fucked? Shit. The image making his dick twitch. 

“I’m not”, Callum says, emboldened by the reaction of both their bodies this morning. He sees Mick’s eyebrows raised in question, before Callum pulls him down for a kiss. Mick is so slow to return the kiss - that Callum thinks he’s fucked up. But moments later he has Mick moaning into his mouth as he kisses him back with abandon. 

Their kissing gets dirty so very quickly. Tongues and teeth clashing messy but perfect. They paw and grab at each other, bodies writhing with lust. With Mick pulled on top of him, their hard dicks almost find each other through their underwear. Their mouths open - they lick and taste, as Callum grabs two handfuls of Mick’s arse and pulls him closer to rub their erections together. Mick makes a moan that makes Callum’s dick throb painfully. 

Just as things are ramping up Mick pulls away from Callum, his hands on his chest as he looks down at him, pupils blown wide. “Holy shit...wait...what are we doing?”

Callum gives him a smug grin, “well we were kissing, now we’re not, but I totally want to kiss you again, it was fucking hot.” Mick looks painfully shy when he looks down at him. “ You want this too?”, he sounds surprised. 

“I would’ve thought that was obvious!” Callum indicates his arousal. Mick looks at Callum’s crotch eyes wide and cheeks on fire. It makes Callum want to kiss him even more. 

“I’m not in the habit of kissing people I’m not attracted to.” He tries to pull him back down, but Mick resists. “I want to...oh God Callum I want to...I just don’t think we should!” Well now Callum feels like a prize idiot. 

“Oh...I-“ he makes to get off the bed but Mick presses him back into the mattress. “Look Mick - you’re kind of giving me mixed signals here.” Mick now looks embarrassed, his cheeks still flushed, Callum finds it impossible not to want to kiss him. 

“What I mean...is I want to kiss you. I actually want to do a hell of a lot more.” 

Okay. 

“Its just...I think we should maybe wait...until after Sunday.” 

Oh, Oh! 

“You mean...afterwards?”

“Yes, I want to wait until the final race is over. I don’t want either of us being distracted or having an excuse why we didn’t do our best.” Mick can see Callum taking his words on board. 

“You drive me crazy Schumacher, why are you always such a gentleman?”, he asks with a dirty grin on his face.  
“I drive myself more crazy. I can’t believe I just cock blocked myself!”  
They both laugh at Mick’s line. 

“Can’t we just kiss...just...kiss?”, Callum hears the desperate tone of his own voice. Mick looks at him and gently caresses his face. 

“It might start as a kiss, but we both know we want more right now. I don’t trust myself right now. Not with you.”  
Callum can’t believe Mick is showing this kind of willpower. “It’s a good job I like you!” 

Callum leans up and quickly pecks Mick on the cheek. “Hey - that’s cheating!”  
Callum then scrambles to get out of the bed. “Jesus- look at what you do to me”, he sounds just as desperate as his dick is, bulging in his boxers. 

“Where are you going?”, Mick asks curiously.   
“I’m going for a cold shower”, he says trying to press the heel of his hand to his crotch for some relief. 

Mick watches him, pupils huge, “I’m going to touch myself and think of you”, Mick announces boldly. It makes Callum groan, and of course his dick throbs at the thought. “Okay I really need to go, otherwise this will get quite embarrassing for me.”

It takes Callum a surprisingly long amount of time to find his jeans. It takes him even longer to get them on. His bulging erection not subsiding anytime soon, no thanks to Mick who’s writhing on the bed, hand in his underwear. “Tease”, is all Callum can muster. 

He’s 3 seconds from saying fuck it - and joining him on the bed. They could have a wank side by side, and God he wants to see what Mick looks like when he comes. Okay - maybe that’s not a good idea. He knows the best things are worth waiting for. And for Callum he can do that, he can wait one sodding week to be with him.

He quickly says his goodbyes, and the instant he shuts the door he can hear Mick moan in such a way that leaves no doubt what he’s doing. Fuck.

Callum needs to get to his room now, he doesn’t want to jizz in his underwear, well - he at least wants to be in his own room when he does. Fumbling with his keycard he manages to open the door on the 3rd attempt, entering his room and quickly slamming the door behind him. 

There’s no finesse to him opening his jeans and ripping down his underwear to get his hand around himself. Back against the door, he pulls on his leaking dick furiously. After a few short tugs Callum comes embarrassingly quick, knees ready to give out. He stumbles to the bed to catch his breath. 

Mick meanwhile barely waited until Callum was out the door. Shit, why did he turn Callum down? They could be getting each other off right now. The thought makes Mick pick up the pace, and with one flick over a nipple he’s coming hard, full body twitching on the bed. 

It’s difficult but it’s only for a week, they can do that. Can’t they? They have the promise of more lying in wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking like 5 parts maybe...🤔


	3. Come Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum gets the news he didn’t want. Mick worries about him. More hurt/comfort

Callum got the phone call later that same morning, after he left Mick. It was not the call he wanted. He’s not going to F1 next year. He’s totally devastated, but he’d rather know it now - than wait until the end of the season and be hit with such disappointment.

Deep down he thinks a part of him had always known. The way his FDA contract ran made sure it would be difficult for him to be approached by other teams. It turned out if they didn’t want him, then nobody else was allowed to. 

He’s pissed off, but there’s nothing else he can do about it - well he can try to go out with a bang. Give it his all and leave everything out on track, no regrets. 

He calls his family, who offer their usual unwavering support. He then posts on his Instagram and Twitter feeds, he’s got nothing to hide. Callum turns his phone off; not wanting to be disturbed for a bit. 

He heads down to the hotel gym - ready to take out his frustrations. He’s never really been one for running, but finds he can do a PB if he has enough angst to fuel him along. He’s alone for a good 45 minutes before anyone joins him. Of course it’s Tweedledee and Tweedledum - Marcus and Robert. 

The two come in and start working out near him. Callum is punching fuck out of a ceiling mounted bag. Clear for all to see that he’s venting some of his rage. He doesn’t want to talk, not yet. He can’t. 

So, the three of them workout - words unspoken. He knows if he wanted to talk they’d give him that too, and for that he’s grateful. 

Mick reads Callum’s post on Twitter and has to reread it several times. Surely not! He calls him and it goes straight to voicemail. He tries another few times getting the same result. 

The next time he calls - he decides to leave a message: “Callum, I just saw your news. I’m so sorry. Call me when you get this.”   
He figures Callum is talking to his PR or his family. He’ll get back to him soon enough. 

Mick busies himself by calling his mother, reading emails and browsing social media for a while. It’s been a good half hour since he left the message so he calls again: “Hey Callum, it’s me. I just want you to know you can call me. We can talk if you need to.” 

He hangs up and immediately calls his number again: “ I just need to know you’re okay, please call me back.” 

Worry is now swooping through him, concern that Callum is upset and hasn’t reached out. He must be devastated, Mick knows that he is. He’d wanted this for the two of them. He makes his way along to Callum’s room, knocks the door and waits...but there’s no answer. Where is he?

Günther calls Mick later that afternoon. His formal contract with Haas will be ready within the week. They will go over some of the terms and conditions in Abu Dhabi. Mick’s stomach lurches. He should be delighted, but he can’t help thinking about his friend. 

Günther then drops the bombshell of who his new teammate will be. And Seriously - what the actual fuck? They’ve picked that racist, sexist, homophobic, dangerous bastard over Callum. Sometimes there are things in life that he will just never understand. 

Mick has never thought himself to be a good liar. But his performance must be truly Oscar worthy, as he says he’s grateful for the opportunity to work with the team, and he can’t wait to get started for next season. 

Oh Jesus! Does Callum know about it? Is that why he’s not answering his phone? Shit. He tries Callum’s phone again. Voicemail. 

A couple of hours after hitting the gym Callum is showered and feeling a bit better than expected. Not to say it doesn’t hurt a little, because of course it does. He’s lying in the safe haven of his bed all snuggled under the covers, his body aching from his exertions in the gym earlier. Slowly, he shuts his eyes...

He wakens an unknown amount of time later, to someone knocking on his room door. Just out of a comfortable nap, it takes him a while to realise what’s going on. The door goes again, more urgently if the volume is anything to go by. Leaving the cozy embrace of his bed he answers.

“Thank God you’re okay!”, Mick says as soon as he opens the door. Callum is still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.  
“Of course I’m okay.”  
Mick barges past him and into his room.  
“I was sleeping”, he sounds confused, but he definitely was sleeping - he thinks.   
“I tried to call you...a lot.”

Callum reaches for his phone and shows it to Mick, “I turned it off earlier”, he says as he switches it on bringing it to life.   
“I know”, Mick says with annoyance. 

Callum’s phone starts to beep and chirp with numerous alerts. It’s probably some friends wanting to offer commiseration, support and advice he guesses. Maybe even journalists looking for a comment or quote. He’ll maybe check later. 

There’s 7 messages from Mick. 

“Should I listen to these or do you-?” Mick being of sound mind, and his brain not being sleep addled - whips the phone from Callum’s hand, promptly deleting the messages he’d left while Callum was incommunicado. His pink cheeks tell Callum he’s a bit embarrassed, but he lets it slide. 

“I was honestly really worried about you...like really worried..I tried to phone you after you posted your statement but I only got your voicemail...I didn’t want you to be sad all by yourself.” He pulls Callum towards him in a tight hug, but it might be more to comfort himself rather than the Brit.

“I’m okay”, Callum says, as Mick pulls him back to arms length and looks him in the eyes intensely. As if trying to detect a lie. “What?...I am”, he repeats and he’s pulled into another hug, which feels more comfortable. 

It feels so good to be wrapped in Mick’s arms and to hold him in his own. A pang of want flares through his belly. Mick pulls back and gently presses their noses and foreheads together. Mick stroking Callum’s hair softly - sending soothing waves over his body. 

“Don’t do that to me again, I was honestly so worried about you.”   
“I’m sorry Mick...that’s how I cope with things sometimes. I like to be left to my own devices...work through my problems by myself.”  
“I know. But you have me...I want you to know I’m here. You can talk to me.”  
“I know I can, and I probably would have...eventually”, he grins at Mick “it’s nice to know you care.”  
“Of course I do.” They embrace for an absolute age, parting when Mick realises what Callum doesn’t know. Oh shit. 

“There’s something I need to tell you.” Callum can tell by the stony expression on Mick’s face this is important. He takes his hand and leads him to the still warm bed, where they sit, and Mick thinks - how the fuck do I tell him this? Callum sits in anticipation Mick’s hand warm in his. 

“I’m not saying this to be mean Cal, I really am not-“, Callum’s heart soars at the use of his nickname. He likes the sound of it coming from Mick’s lips. 

“-Günther called me earlier.” Callum nods with a sad smile. “I’ll sign my contract next week.”  
“That’s great, I’m so happy for you...really, well done.” Mick looks him in the eyes and sees nothing but sincerity. “That’s not all...he...oh God! How do I tell you?”, 

Callum’s looks at him with concern. 

“Just tell me.” Callum takes both of Mick’s hands in his own. Mick takes a deep breath: “He told me about my new teammate...”, it’s clearly not someone Mick is keen on going by the look on his face. 

“Car 24.”

Of all the things Mick could’ve told him - Jesus. It’s pretty hard to take. Him. That piece of shit. He feels like he’s been slapped. Callum laughs sarcastically, closing his eyes, willing away hot tears and breathing deeply. 

“Well I guess that makes things a bit easier to understand then”, he sounds bitter, but who would blame him right now. “I don’t follow”, Mick says in reply.

“I’ve thought about it...I’ve thought about it a lot...it made no sense...you should’ve realistically gone to Alfa next year, and had a better car. Maybe then I should’ve went to Haas. But instead they went with the money.”

Mick nods, it makes complete sense. Except it really fucking doesn’t, why would they do that? Callum hit the nail on the head though. It all boils down to money. Car 24’s rich daddy bought his seat. It smacks of corruption, but F1 has always been a sport for the rich, and those who can buy their way in. 

But, Mick also has another thought, what if Callum beats him to the title? It would make both teams look like fucking idiots. 

Callum searches Mick’s face, “No...I know what you’re thinking. No we’re not doing that!”   
“What?”, Mick says trying and failing to sound innocent.   
“You’re thinking about letting me win. Or you thought about it for a second. I won’t let you do that.”  
“It’s quite annoying how well you know me!”, he says with a lopsided smile looking down at their hands knitted together. 

“Can I have a kiss?”, Callum asks, chancing his luck. Mick smiles softly and leans in before kissing him on the forehead. Callum will take anything he can get. They spend time lounging on Callum’s bed, relaxing in each other’s arms. 

It’s early, but again the emotions of the day have taken their toll. “Stay here?”, Callum asks. Mick nods and gives him a peck on the lips. They are quick to settle into the comfy bed. 

This time Callum isn’t afraid to ask. “Can you maybe spoon me? I want to feel your arms around me.”

And with a gentle request like that who is Mick to say no. He slots himself in behind Callum and the pair drift off...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haas you did our boy wrong 😑 Can you tell I’m not over this yet?


	4. We’re Almost Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and Robert look out for their boy. The last race weekend. And my own twist on shirtgate😉

Mick quietly leaves Callum’s room early the next morning after a kiss goodbye. As he shuts the door behind him, Marcus exits his own room just opposite. He gives the German a nod before he heads to the lift. Mick swiftly makes his way to his room a bit further down the corridor.

Mick takes a shower - his mind full of thoughts about Callum. In a daydream he changes into his work out gear, before heading down to use the hotel gym.

Mick starts on the treadmill for a good 20 minutes, before making his way to the rowing machine for another 20. He feels great. He’s lifting weights when Marcus approaches him.

“So, do I need to have the shovel talk with you?”, he asks.  
“Pardon?”, Mick asks confused. Marcus stares at him for a minute.

“If you hurt him. I will fucking kill you. I mean it Mick. I will chop you into little pieces and bury you under a patio.” Mick gulps as he hears the menace in Marcus’ tone.

“I don’t want to hurt him Marcus. I love him.” Okay - that’s the first time he’s admitted that to himself, never mind anyone else.

Marcus looks at him from head to toe, deciding if he’s telling the truth or not. “Okay...I thought you guys were just fucking...but either way - if you hurt him I will make you fucking pay!” He gives Mick one last threatening look then leaves.

Callum is lucky to have a good friend like that watching his back. Of that Mick is sure. But he’s just worked out something huge. He’s in love.

The German continues his workout as planned, before showering again and heading to breakfast. He sits alone with his whole-grain toast and scrambled eggs, as Robert sits down across from him. Stern look on his face.

“Hey Robert how’s it going?”

Robert looks at him for a good minute before he says “I also own a shovel...and I will happily do time if you hurt my friend!” He then grabs a piece of Mick’s toast and leaves the dining room.

Mick’s heart swells for Callum that he has people watching his back. He’ll be okay next year, especially with great friends like these. When he gets back to his room he texts him:

**I have been threatened by your friends x**

**What???**

**Marcus had the shovel talk with me in the gym. He saw me leaving your room this morning x**

**😳**

**Robert then told me he owns a shovel when he joined me at breakfast x**

**🙈 can’t believe it. At least they’re looking out for me x 😊**

Callum now knew his friends had his back and he felt massive pride. He hoped he could do the same for them one day.

The next few days pass by in a blur and despite everything that’s gone on in the last couple of days - both Mick and Callum remain focused on the final race weekend. They have their seat fits for the Young Driver’s test in Abu Dhabi. There’s also plenty of press and PR to keep them occupied.

The final sprint race is nothing more than a disaster for Mick who finishes 18th. Callum does slightly better and lands up P10. But it’s not enough. He needed more points to catch Mick in the title fight.

Now that the racing is underway - they are choosing to give each other some space. It’s difficult, but hopefully will make their reunion all the more sweeter for it.

Callum hits the gym for a couple of hours. Marcus and Robert there beside him goofing around when they get the chance. “Thanks for having my back you guys”, he says as they stand sweating all over the floor.

Marcus looks him up and down “anytime Cal, but your boyfriend better remember - we meant what we said.”  
“Yeah...shovels”, deadpans Robert - and Callum dissolves into a fit of laughter. “What?”, Marcus asks, “we’re serious.”

“Thanks you guys, I think we’ll be okay. In fact, I kinda think I love him!”  
“God you guys are disgustingly cute!”, sniggers Marcus. Callum likes to think they are.

Mick on the other hand, has already been through some coaching sessions with Stuart, the head of the Haas communications department. He’s been learning how to deal with difficult questions. And let’s face it he’s pretty much guaranteed those, given who his new teammate will be. It seems he will have a lot to learn. At least it takes his mind off missing Callum, a bit.

And so the time comes for the final race of the season. The title still technically up for grabs.

The feature race doesn’t quite go to plan for either of them. Callum finishes P5, it’s still not enough points to catch Mick who ends P6 anyway. He’s quick to congratulate him as soon as he’s out the car. He gave it all he had. It just wasn’t enough in the end.

The cameras lap it up when they shake hands and hug. If only they knew the half of it.

Callum is lounging in his driver’s room, the anticipation of what might happen later whirring through his mind. He’s interrupted from his dirty daydream by Marcus.

“Aren’t you ready yet?”  
“What?”, he’s got no clue what the Kiwi is talking about.  
“The prize giving, you dick!”, he says, Callum is still in the dark and gawps at Marcus.

“Callum, they are giving out the championship prizes after the podium, please tell me you’re not that dense?” Oh shit.  
“I can’t wear my race suit!”, he panics.  
“I know! That’s why I’m trying to move your ass to get changed.”  
“I’ve only got shorts!”, Callum whines.

Callum clearly was not of sound mind when the dress code for the formal presentation was emailed to the drivers - as he can’t remember a single thing about it.

Marcus looks him up and down: “do us both a favour and go see your boyfriend, I bet you he’s got spare gear. He seems like a bit of a Boy Scout.”  
“Hey!”, Callum says insulted on Mick’s behalf.

“Sorry for dissing your man, but seriously Cal, shift your arse!” The way Marcus says it with such urgency has Callum moving out the door in a hurry.

Mick’s drivers area is quiet. Most of his team are probably in front of the podium waiting for him to collect his champion’s trophy. Callum knocks and is surprised when Mick rips the door open fast.

“Why aren’t you changed yet?” He asks giving him a once over.  
“I...erm...” Callum shrugs in reply.  
“You don’t have anything to wear do you?”, Mick asks with a smirk. Callum nods his head, biting his lip, loving that Mick knows him so well.

“No. I didn’t realise.”  
Mick huffs before going over to the small clothing rail: “you know the whole point of receiving emails from the FIA is that you’re supposed to read them!”  
“I know”, Callum mutters sheepishly.  
“Here, come pick something”, Mick urges. He can’t believe he’s in love with this idiot.

Callum walks over and looks at Mick’s clothes. There’s a pair of black jeans, a white shirt and a black shirt hanging on the rail. He looks back at Mick standing wearing black jeans and a pale blue shirt. He looks again at the shirts, idea coming into his head.

“I actually think you should wear the white one”, Callum says. He then starts shimmying out of his race suit, as Mick walks over, heat in his eyes as he looks at him.

“I’ll wear the white one, if you wear this one”, he replies as he starts to unbutton the blue shirt he’s wearing. Callum can’t look away as he watches Mick’s skin come into view.

The air is full of tension as he struggles with his fireproofs, then he is down to his underwear, a pair of tiny briefs and this situation is not helping to keep him soft in their confines.

Mick’s eyes look over his body in appraisal, and all Callum wants to do is jump him in return. Shirtless, Mick is like a marble statue. He can’t wait to get his hands on him.

Callum clears his throat as Mick passes him the blue shirt. Their fingers touch and there is electricity in the contact.

“I know”, is all Mick says breathing heavily. Callum sees his pink cheeks and knows he’s feeling it too. From there Callum tries to dress quickly, it’s not easy. But seeing Mick - now wearing the white shirt he realises he was right. It makes his eyes look more blue. God he loves him.

He looks in the mirror - but there’s one small problem. The jeans are a bit too big. “Here use this”, Mick offers him a belt. Better. He even wears a pair of Mick’s black trainers. Minutes later Mick’s PR does a double take as he comes to walk him to the podium.

The prize giving ceremony is a bit of a blur. He remembers telling the interviewer that he’d tried so hard. He’d pushed Mick until the wire, but he lost to the better man. All Callum can think of is Mick, the blue shirt smells of him, it’s driving him fucking crazy.

Mick then says he’s obviously proud to have won, but if he lost, he would have been happy to lose to someone as good as Callum. Callum’s gonna kiss his face real good later.

There is a long wait for photos and interviews but it hasn’t dampened Mick’s desire as he looks over to Callum, their eyes connecting as they talk to different people on opposite ends of the paddock. It only adds to the air of expectation.

It’s a few hours before the drivers and teams arrive back at the hotel, and there are a few celebrations to be had. But none more so than what awaits them upstairs...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keeping y’all waiting for the porn. If you’re still here thanks 😊


	5. You Are My Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After making you wait, here’s the porn 💦🍆

Upstairs, the door is shut for all of 3 seconds before the pair launch themselves at each other. A mess of mouths and hands, kissing, licking, grabbing, biting and pawing - primal need taking over. Mick presses Callum back against the door, and Callum finds that he likes being manhandled a bit...okay, a lot.

They continue their efforts lips, tongues and teeth reacquainting themselves perfectly. Mick slots a thigh between Callum’s - giving him something to grind against. Callum meanwhile is kissing Mick’s throat, over the spot where that damn pendant sits (it personally offends him), drawing a breathy moan from the German. 

“As much as I like seeing you wear my shirt, I want to rip the fucking thing off you so bad!”, says Mick, his voice husky with need. “Go on then”, Callum taunts. Never one to refuse a challenge Mick does just that - and pulls the two sides apart with a rip. 

Buttons fly in all directions and bounce onto the floor. He tears the blue shirt from Callum’s shoulders and then presses his bare skin back against the cold room door, causing the Brit to gasp in surprise. 

Callum wants Mick’s skin on his own and pulls him in by his shirt. “Take this off!”   
The two of them scramble to unbutton it together. Callum not brave enough to ruin another of Mick’s shirts by himself. Not tonight anyway. 

“God you’re beautiful”, Callum says reaching out to stroke Mick’s toned chest and muscular shoulders. He flicks a nipple drawing a moan from the German that makes his dick twitch in his underwear. 

“Can we take this to the bed. I think my knees will give out!”, Callum says - not a single fuck to give. Mick kisses him again before peeling him from the door and leading him to the bed. He gently pushes Callum onto his back, before removing his shoes, socks then jeans. 

He makes quick work of the rest of his own clothes before joining Callum, sitting on his knees between the brunette’s thighs. God he wants him so much. 

His fingers curl around the shape of Callum’s cock, straining through his tiny underwear. Rubbing his length slow and firm, he works him over until a wet spot appears on his briefs. He grazes that wet patch with the pad of his thumb causing Callum to cry out. The noise going straight to his own cock, now throbbing with a need like he’s never known. 

“I want you to fuck me”, gasps Callum, as Mick continues to grope him over his underwear. “Oh shit Cal”, he says feeling his own dick leak at the thought.  
He slips Callum’s underwear down past his slim hips and watches in awe as his dick bounces against his stomach, precome leaking onto his belly. 

He gives Callum a few cursory strokes, before leaning down to lick the wet head of his beautiful cock. Callum moans loudly, as Mick licks at the sensitive vein on the underside a few times, before he plunges the full length of him into his wet, perfect mouth. 

Callum fists the sheets, as Mick continues bobbing up and down on his dick. He can’t help but look down and steal a glance at the blonde working his cock. He’s now stroking him more gently, as he licks a finger, grazing past his balls and perineum headed for his hole. The very first touch there has Callum coming in thick jets of come all over Mick’s hand and his own belly. 

“Fuck...sorry”, he gasps out.   
“Holy shit that was hot!” Mick says sounding raspy.   
“Don’t stop. I want it. I want you.” He sounds so needy, and he honestly doesn’t care.   
“Jesus...Callum do you know what you’re doing to me?” Mick thrusts against the mattress desperately hoping for some relief. 

His spit slicked finger circles Callum’s hole gently, before the tip breaches him. From there he eases it in and out, the action becoming easier the more he fingers him. For Callum it feels good, but it’s not quite enough. Mick withdraws his finger and slides two in on the next pass. 

Oh. This is better, thinks Callum. He’s just getting used to the pressure - when Mick presses against something inside him that makes his whole body jolt in white hot pleasure. 

“Oh Fuck...do that again”, he begs. Mick promptly complies and Callum’s soft, spent dick has come to life. After a few hits on his prostate Callum is a whimpering mess. Mick is aching to be inside him now. But he keeps working Callum open slow and sure, he wants this to be good for them both. Three fingers are slipping in and out of him now, he hopes it’s enough. 

Callum keen to move things on, sits up to kiss Mick, getting a hand into his straining underwear, and stroking him firmly, thumbing the leaking tip.   
“If you want me to fuck you - you better stop right now. Fuck!”, Mick warns stilling his actions. 

Callum withdraws his hand, because he really wants that dick inside him. He’s decided he’s already a bit of a slut for Mick. The blonde pushes his own boxers down, as Callum reaches into the bedside drawer for lube and condoms. 

Mick suits up and slathers a generous amount of lube over his dick. Callum pulls on his own cock a couple of times, desperate for some relief despite having come just 10 minutes ago. Mick swipes the rest of the lube over Callum’s hole. 

The blonde then pushes Callum’s knees up towards his chest, lining himself up with his slick hole. Mick presses the blunt head of his cock to Callum’s entrance and gently pushes in. It’s hard for Mick not to start thrusting into that tight, silky heat immediately, but he waits for Callum to adjust to the sensation. 

Mick pumps Callum’s half hard dick a few times to distract him from the intensity of feeling so full. It’s enough to earn a moan of pleasure. Oh fuck, this is not going to last long - for either of them. 

“Move”, Callum begs him with a whine. And thank God, because Mick thought he was about to lose his mind. He pulls back ever so slightly, before sliding right back inside, setting a slow pace, praying he doesn’t come too soon. He’s biting his lip in concentration. It feels like nothing he’s ever known. 

Callum meanwhile, is flushed all the way down to his chest. His dick hard, blurting precome onto his belly. The sight makes Mick’s hips stutter, but he then hits that magical spot inside Callum - as he makes a punched out sound, whimpering as his back jerks off the bed for a second. 

Things ramp up from there. Mick quickens the pace of his thrusting hips, stabbing short breaths out of them both. Callum wraps a leg around Mick drawing him closer, the slick and slide of their bodies aided with come and sweat. Callum also grabs a handful of Mick’s arse to urge him on. He doesn’t need any persuasion. 

Mick can feel his climax building so very fucking fast, as Callum enjoys the intensity of his own orgasm which is starting from somewhere completely unknown. Not going to last much longer, Mick gets his hand around Callum’s wet dick and strokes him in time to the pounding of his hips. Three swipes of his hand and Callum comes hard, ropes of come painting all the way up to his chest. 

That sight, combined with Callum tightening perfectly around him is enough to send him into oblivion. He comes, pulse roaring in his ears, unable to stop the litany of swearing pouring from his mouth. 

Mick wants to remember this moment forever. Looking down at Callum lying there utterly debauched, body shaking with aftershocks. Panting for breath. His abs coated with sweat and come. His hair an absolute riot. He looks well and truly fucked.

Callum pulls him down for a filthy kiss, and the mess between them is forgotten. Mick eventually slips out and rolls to the side, not want to utterly crush Callum by collapsing on top of him. They lie panting in unison as they try to get their breath back.

“Holy fuck!”, Callum says, surprised he is able to string two words together.   
“Worth the wait”, replies Mick. They lie surrounded by nothing but the sound of their own ragged breathing. 

“Okay I’m gross... I need a shower.” Callum says not moving. Mick laughs and gives him a gentle nudge and he gingerly gets up, Mick following close behind. 

They shower together, barely able to keep their hands to themselves. It is a joy that they can touch each other now, and it feels like they’re making up for lost time. 

After a night of Callum wrapped around him Mick feels like he won more than the F2 title this year. He and Callum talked, well they did - in between kissing and groping. They know they will need to see what happens with Callum’s future, as it is still a bit up in the air at the moment. 

The world is not quite ready for an out F1 driver. Mick knows that, and Callum does too. But what they decided is they want to give this thing a try. It’s early days, the world is in their hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are still here thank you 🙏🏼. I Don’t think I’m finished yet but my job on the COVID-19 ward is kicking my ass. Hope to have final chapter in next few days.


	6. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut, fluff, porn and feels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter

The morning after, Callum wakens Mick with a blow job. His enthusiasm more than making up for his lack of experience. Mick assures him that it was good enough to have him seeing stars. Callum said it was his way of congratulating Mick on his title win. That, plus Mick made him come twice last night so this makes things even.

They don’t have anywhere in particular to be until that evening, having to catch the late flight to Abu Dhabi. So they make good use of the bed and each other.

They part with the promise of trying to see each other in Abu Dhabi. They know it will be difficult to find the time, given that it is the run up to their Young Drivers test. But they hope to catch up soon.

At the Yas Marina Circuit it is a struggle for them to have any privacy. The pair have numerous work and media commitments which makes things so difficult. Their schedules barely allow for any time together. They have the odd 5 minutes in the paddock, but even then, there are always plenty of eyes, or even cameras to witness every second that they share. It’s so hard not to reach out and just touch the other.

It’s the morning before the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, the final race of the F1 season. The two pass each other in the gym. Mick on the way out - as Callum is on his way in, both with personal trainers in tow. No chance to talk, again. It’s so fucking hard.

Lurking around in background, and having had it up to here of seeing Callum moping about like a love sick puppy for the last few days - Robert has devised a plan.

He texts Mick :

**Meet him outside in 5 👍🏼**

**He sends a text to Callum:**

**Get ready to see your boyfriend in a few...🙉🚨**

Robert then runs to the gym toilets and smashes the fire alarm hoping his buddy will get the message...

Callum feels the vibration of his watch as he starts his warm up. He’s unable to check it straight away. He gets around 20 seconds - before the fire alarm starts blaring. Rob, what have you done?

After leaving the gym and having a chat about his program, Mick watches his trainer get on the lift. He’s about to take a walk and call his mother, his phone in hand, when he sees the strange message from Robert. What? Then, all he can hear is the fire alarm. He moves to the fire exit with a grin. That wonderful little shit.

Outside Mick waits for Callum to appear. When he sees him he calls him over. “Your friends are insane!”, Mick whispers.  
“Sure are”, he laughs in reply. Just as they are about to start chatting Robert appears from nowhere. He hands Callum a set of keys, and gives Mick an envelope. He points to a black Toyota across the street and says “get out of here you kids!”

Without a second thought, and so very happy to have a chance at being alone with each other, they quickly make their way over to the car. Callum fires up the engine as Mick fastens his seat belt. They drive, not even knowing where to go - just glad to be alone for a minute, and no-one else watching.

“What’s in the envelope?” Callum asks as he stops at a set of traffic lights. Mick opens the envelope and pulls out a hotel keycard, post it note attached with a room number. “They may be insane, but they are amazing.” He holds up the card for Callum to see, his love for his buddies knowing no bounds now.

The hotel is literally 5 minutes from their own. It’s still early though, and the beach is on the way, so they stop off and decide to take a walk along the sand. It seems like so long since they just talked without prying eyes.

They walk barefoot, at the edge of the water, enjoying the feel of the wet sand amongst their toes. They chat about everything and nothing. The pair then find a beachfront cafe for brunch. After enjoying their meal, Mick gives thanks to the almighty above that he has emergency cash concealed in his phone case.

Although it is December, it’s still quite warm, and Mick worries about Callum’s pale skin getting burnt - so for that reason they make their way to the hotel. Glad they don’t need to check-in, the pair head up to the room. Bless Robert (and probably Marcus), the room has a bottle of champagne sitting waiting for them as they enter. It even has a bloody balcony!

Callum feels like brunch was their proper first date, and for that reason he wants to keep things going. Mick doesn’t even care, he’s just ecstatic that they are finally spending time together.

They undress, put on the complimentary soft towelling robes and slippers and open the champagne. Mick pours them a glass spilling some as he goes. Callum promptly pulls his fingers to his mouth to suck them clean.

Mick was trying to be patient, but now Callum has just set his need on fire. He walks around the table to him and sits on his lap. Just having the contact makes him feel better. He’s keen to take things further, but he’s also enjoying the way their surprising day is going so far. It is a proper date.

A few glasses in and they are feeling a bit more comfortable in their surroundings. The balcony isn’t completely private, but it’s close enough. The pair have mostly been savouring this rare time alone, kissing and cuddling, but now the desire for more of each other is taking over.

Callum is ready to get things started. Now feeling bolder and totally horny. Mick is playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and his fingers are ghosting over the sensitive skin there too. He pulls Mick against his erection and grinds up into his clothed arse.

Mick gasps and stops his playing with Callum’s hair. “As much as I enjoy being out here with you, I don’t want these strangers to know how much!” He says eyes dark, getting off Callum and pulling him inside to the bedroom.

Mick pulls at Callum’s robe and pushes it to the ground. Callum returning the favour. The blonde pushes Callum onto the bed and sits astride his lap this time. Skin on skin, leaving no doubt just how much they want each other.

Mick grinds his bare arse against Callum’s hardness, his own cock dragging against the brunette’s abdomen and drawing a gasp from both of them. Callum grabs Mick’s bum cheeks and grinds harder against him. The German is impatient and draws two of his fingers into his own mouth, wetting and sucking them, before reaching behind him.

Callum can only watch the expression on Mick’s face change as he starts to work himself open. Fuck he really wants to see that, but right now with things going the way they are - he’s more worried about the fact they don’t have any condoms.

Mick continues his quick work, with one hand clawing at Callum’s chest.

Mick can see Callum’s expression of panic and stills himself. “What’s wrong?”, he asks.  
“No condoms”, he says with regret. Shit. Their eyes both snap to the bedside drawers.

Callum holds Mick’s hand in place on his chest, as he prays to the gods that Robert was prepared enough for this eventuality. He opens the bedside drawer, his hand blindly searching as he keeps eyes on Mick in silent prayer....And, lo and behold there’s a box of 3 inside!

“Oh my! We owe Robert a lot”, Mick says with a smile. “We certainly fucking do”, Callum agrees. Mick goes back to opening himself, as Callum tears open one of the foil packages. He rolls the condom on just as Mick says “Okay...I’m ready now!”

Callum lies there helpless as Mick guides his dick to his entrance. Mick then sinks down on him part way, before rising on his knees, only to slide all the way back down. Callum moans in return at the feeling of Mick snug around his throbbing cock. He can do nothing but grab two handfuls of Mick’s arse and hold on for the ride.

Callum really enjoys the show, watching Mick ride him like his life depends on it. It’s like all his fantasies rolled into one as he watches Mick fuck himself on his dick, just searching for his pleasure. Then, when he finds the right angle he twists his hips as he grinds against Callum on the way down. He manages to jack himself off and keep up his relentless pace, until he clenches around him and spurts his climax all over Callum.

Callum is barely able to believe he didn’t come just from watching Mick, but boy is he close. He grabs him by the back of the thighs and flips them, the blonde now on his back. Callum shows no mercy and pounds into him hard and fast drawing beautiful moans from him. It doesn’t take long before he comes, harder than he ever has in his life.

Callum has absolutely no grace as he collapses on top of his lover. But Mick, just wraps his arms around him in return. Plastered together with sweat and come, they struggle to get their breathing under control and slowly roll onto their sides. Callum carefully slips out of Mick and kisses him softly before heading to the bathroom.

He disposes of the used condom, and returns with a warm washcloth, gently swiping it over Mick’s used body. He gives himself a quick wipe down before throwing it into the sink.

Callum then flops onto the bed and pulls Mick into his arms, they lie there with the wind blowing a soft breeze in from the balcony, reminding them of where they are.

Later, they go another round, this time Mick kneeling on all fours as Callum plunges into him from behind. Mick knows his hips will be bruised by morning, that’s how tightly Callum is grasping his hips, but fuck, it feels so good as he hits just the right spot up inside him. Callum enjoying their skin slapping together, watching the quick ripples it makes with the merciless pace he is setting.

Mick comes untouched this time, whining face down in the sheets. The sensation again drawing Callum nearer to his own release - as he punches his hips forward one, two, three...four times, before stilling inside him and making an ungodly noise ripped right from his lungs.

With a bit more etiquette than the last time, he pulls out and to Mick’s side - stroking his back, flecked with dots of sweat. Mick, still quite out of it can only twitch in response. Callum feels a surge of pride that he’s gotten him so ruined.

They really shouldn’t stay the night. They have too much to do, and there will be people looking for them, hell to pay. But the temptation is just too strong. The lure of just being with each other is enough for them to say fuck it, and just wrap themselves in the others arms.

The brunette fixes the damp sheets (god the maid is gonna hate them), and pulls one of the dressing gowns over a sleepy Mick. He just snuggles up beside him and is quickly asleep too.

They sleep in way too late, and have to rush back to their own hotel almost in a daze. Callum drives them back the short distance as Mick winces at the amount of missed calls and messages he has. Callum’s smart watch is beeping constantly with notifications too.

Around the corner from the hotel Callum parks up. They share a final kiss before Mick leaves first. As he enters the lobby his PR almost rugby tackles him to the ground. So worried about him going off the grid, they were about to call the local police.

He’s ashamed to do it, but he uses the excuse of a family crisis. He knows this is vague enough to make a suggestion about his father’s health without actually using those words. But it will shut down all questions and not bring about any further prying. Disgusted, he then promises to himself he will never ever do that again.

Walking around the block Callum is able to check some of his messages. His trainer, PR and agent all wondering where the fuck he is. As he makes his way along to his room his trainer is waiting outside for him. He demands to know where the fuck he’s been.

He tells him he’s been feeling unwell. When the trainer asks him why he wasn’t in his room, he says his head is a bit messed up thinking about his future. It’s not entirely a lie. He’s still got no clue where he goes after this.

The trainer accepts this and hustles him to get changed, and ready for a session that will blow away the cobwebs.

Later that day the F1 season ends, with the Yas Marina Circuit looking awesome, lit up in the nighttime sky. Callum and Mick meet by chance in the paddock, but the moment is wasted as they are reminded they aren’t alone when roving reporter Ted says hello to them on camera. He makes a comment about the “good friends”. They play along for the cameraman. Just 24 hours ago these good friends were fucking each other’s brains out.

The pair have a day off before their test drive. Callum doing his utmost to stay busy. He takes a call from an E-racing team. The offer is astronomical, like huge. It is very tempting, he’d love to be back in a car next year. He asks for a couple of days.

And just because Callum’s life doesn’t like to remain drama free for long, his phone goes again later that day. Mattia Binotto calls him personally to offer him the position of official Ferrari test driver. He will also have 2 guaranteed FP1 run outs next season. Some have got into F1 this way. It’s a very slight chance, but it’s a chance all the same.

He knows the Ferrari team have messed him about a lot, but despite this - his heart has been with the prancing horses for a few years now. It’s really a no brainer, and he instantly gives Mattia his thanks and graciously accepts the offer to work with the Scuderia.

Two job offers in the space of an hour. One of them with an obscene amount of money, the other with a higher profile. His head is spinning but the first person he messages is Mick:

**Just had a call from Mattia 😱**

**And? Don’t leave me hanging...**

**I’m the new Ferrari test driver🏎🤩**

**OMG that’s amazing 😻**

**Can’t believe it 🤭**

**You deserve it. My boyfriend the Ferrari driver 😍**

Okay that’s the first time either of them have used that word, but Callum finds he rather likes it. So he replies in the simplest way possible:

❤️

He calls his family later to tell them the news. His mum is a bit disappointed that he’ll be staying in Italy, and she won’t see as much of him as she maybe thought she would next year. But she’s so happy that he has something to help him work towards that elusive F1 seat for 2022.

The announcement is made just before the Young Drivers test. Which means he can go out, with no worries about his future and give it everything in that Alfa car. He comes 8th in the time standings, managing 93 laps. Glad that the tiring program is over - he then has a lot of press to contend with, but his good mood can’t be dampened.

He texts Mick before he goes to bed:

**God I’m gonna miss you x 😪**

**I will miss you more x**

**Do you want to come over for New Year? x**

**I can’t ... because I’ve told my mother you are coming to Switzerland. Please say you will x 🤞🏼**

**I can’t wait x ❤️**

And just like that, Callum’s future has fell into place. Mick’s is looking rosy too. It’s hard to believe that their relationship has blossomed from a situation which could have been utterly devastating. It brings it all home, just how dangerous the sport can be, it was a wake up call. They should fight for what they want in life and not look back.

It’s early days in their time together. They haven’t talked it through yet. They know they probably will in Switzerland. But the fact they are both going to be in Marinello for some part of the year is a starting point. In the meantime, they can both go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you guys waiting.  
> 60 days til FP1 in Bahrain 🤩  
> I may die before then 🥺

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for the next chapter, coming soon😉


End file.
